Witch's Marsh broken arrows

For a moment, she thought he might flee. She wondered how on earth he managed to get around without eyes. Before she could think too long on it, he questioned her about her leg, asking if it was hurt. Swallowing, she glanced at the disembodied limb again. It wasn't just hurt, it was dead. It even looked the part; it was a sallow gray color, the blood on the end black and sticky, which suddenly made her stomach turn.

"It's gone," she choked in a quiet voice. It was slowly coming back to her: she had removed it herself. A shudder passed through her. "I chewed it off," she added almost too quietly to hear, a strange sensation welling up in her chest. She hadn't cried much in her young life, though, and she didn't intend to start now. She swallowed again, trying to take deep, steadying breaths.